Page 9 of The Banshee and the Warlock

Right. It probably doesn't understand me. I replace the button with the coin. "For you. Thank you for the treasure." I run my fingers over the button, feeling weirdly attached to it even if I have no reason to be, other than a random raven gave it to me in the middle of the night.

The raven flaps its wings and reaches down to pick up the coin in its beak. For one horrible moment, I think it might choke on it, but that seems unlikely when it was able to bring me the button.

"Goodnight," I say to the bird.

It hops away and launches itself into the air, flying back to wherever it came from.

I stifle a yawn, trying not to overthink the interaction. The dream still lingers in my mind, but I feel a bit better after talking to the raven. I need to sort out these dreams or I'm going to end up being even weirder than I thought I was in the first place.

Chapter 5

Anja

The bubble of dozens of potions all brewing at the same time fills the air. Unfortunately, so does the smell. And while I may not be naturally gifted at potions, someone in the room is even worse if the stench of burned hair is anything to go by.

I cut the bulbous purple root in front of me, the knife slipping and grazing my skin. "Ah." I pull my hand back, wincing at the pain of the cut and the sting of the citrus-like juice coming from the root.

Cethin freezes beside me, his ears going on alert, almost seeming as if he's worried. "What happened?"

"I cut myself, no big deal." I wave my hand around as if to try and make it clear that I'm fine.

He catches hold of it, his skin pleasantly warm against mine. It's surprisingly comforting. I would have thought his skin would be cold and stone-like based on the greyness, but that's not the case at all.

"Let me see," he says.

"I'm fine, Cethin," I respond.

"Please?"

I bite my lip and nod.

His gaze drops to my lips and for one moment, I consider what it would be like to kiss him and to do far more than that. I push the thought to the side, knowing that I can't think about anything like that here. Or anywhere.

A small rivulet of blood runs out of the cut and onto his finger, the bright red showing up surprisingly well against the dark grey. He seems transfixed on the injury and for a horrifying moment, I find myself wondering if he's a vampire and that this is some kind of fixation I don't want. I know there are some at Rosewood, but I'm not sure how to tell who is what. There are some characteristics that are easy to recognise, like Nati's snakes, but for the rest of the students, anybody could be anything. Or that's the way it seems to me. Maybe I should have paid more attention when Mum was trying to teach me all this stuff, and then I'd be better prepared.

I clear my throat, knowing that this isn't the time to be thinking about any of this. "It's just a cut."

"Mind if I fix it?"

I frown. "How?"

He chuckles. "Magic, Anja, how else do you think?"

"Oh, right." I push a strand of hair out of my face with my free hand. "Sure." I glance to the front to make sure Professor Fairburn isn't paying us any attention. Though even if she is, I doubt she'd tell us off for dealing with an injury, even if it's a small one.

He mutters a few words under his breath and a wisp of violet washes over my hand. My skin tingles and the sting of the cut vanishes, though I can't see what happened.

I let out a small gasp at the way the magic makes me feel, though I can't put into words precisely what caused it.

Cethin looks up, his gaze meeting mine, and I can see all kinds of unspoken questions in there. Or maybe they're unspoken answers, and the questions are mine.

"Your eyes are glowing purple," I murmur.

"I'm using my magic," he says by way of explanation. "You should be okay now." While he says it, he doesn't let go of my hand.

Nor do I pull it back.

"I like purple," I say.